


fuck me gently with a chainsaw

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Heathers (1988)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HELLO I KNOW THIS IS BAD SORRY ALSO KING GEORGE IS WILLIAM I JUST USED HIS LAST NAME</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. such a pillowcase

“Oh, just shut up already would you, Alex?” asked Angelica, her dark brown curls held up just above her blood red blazer by a hair tie of the same color. “It’s like you never stop talking,” she complained, hitting the croquet ball in one swift movement, sending it rolling across the fresh grass. “Eliza, your turn!” she ordered as Eliza reluctantly looked up from the book she was reading. “Alright, alright, no need to get upset,” she mumbled as she shuffled past Angelica and Peggy, who seemed to be admiring a patch of golden carnations a few feet away. Eliza hit the ball gently and smoothly, directing it in the direction of Alex’s feet but surpassing it by several feet, resulting in the ball rolling out of sight. “Great going, moron! Now it’s gone! Let’s just head to school,” Angelica sighed exasperatedly before picking her croquet ball and mallet up and dropping it in the wooden caddy that awaited it at the edge of the fence surrounding their croquet game. Peggy’s thoughts were disrupted by Eliza grabbing her by the cuff of her mustard colored blazer and pulling her out of Alex’s backyard gate, knowing the hell that would await them if they were late. As for Alex, he dusted off his plaid skirt, a dark blue shade glinting across it, and headed out of his backyard. 

 

“God, come on Alex,” Peggy ushered, marching across the tile floor of Westerburg High School. “What’s your damage, Peggy?” Alex asked, crossing his arms as he sped up. “Don’t blame me, blame Angelica. She told me to haul your ass into the cafeteria, pronto. Back me up, Eliza.” Peggy rolled her eyes, looking to Eliza for support. “Yeah, she really wants to talk to you.” Eliza said, somehow managing to read her book while walking without struggle. “Okay, I’m going. Jesus Christ,” whispered Alex as they burst through the cafeteria doors, the strange odors of the mystery meat and the sparkling grease combining to create a disgusting mixture, which filled their noses. “Hello Angelica,” Alex said, returning his arms to the crossed position they were in before being disrupted to open the cafeteria doors and stopping abruptly. “Alex, finally. I've got a note of Theodosia Bartow's. I need you to forge a hot and horny, yet realistically low-key note in Theodosia's handwriting and slip it onto Aaron Burr's lunch tray.” Angelica said, smiling maliciously and handing Alex a piece of paper and a pen. “Shit, Angelica, I don’t have anything against Aaron Burr,” Alex frowned, placing his hands at his hips. “You don’t have anything for him either. Come on, it’ll be very,” Angelica pleaded. “I’ll think about it,” Alex sighed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t think. Alex needs something to write on. Eliza, bend over,” Angelica ordered, glancing at Aaron Burr. After about five minutes, Alex had finished forging the note. “Peggy, sneak this onto Aaron’s lunch tray,” Angelica commanded, and Peggy obliged. 

 

“Hamilton, guess what today is,” Angelica asked, placing a hand at her hip. “Ouch. Lunchtime poll?” Alex guessed. “So what’s the question?” asked Peggy contentedly, pulling at one of her almond curls. “Yeah, so what’s the question?” echoed Eliza. “Goddamn Eliza. You were with me in study hall when I thought of it,” Angelica scoffed, eyeing Eliza. “I forgot,” muttered Eliza. “Such a pillowcase,” Angelica scorned, rolling her eyes. “This wouldn’t be that bizarro thing you were babbling about over the phone last night, would it?” asked Alex. “Of course it is,” stated Angelica. Alex was sure she said something more but a boy sitting at the corner of the cafeteria with curls that reached his shoulders and freckles sprinkled across his face caught Alex’s eye. Without realization, Alex walked straight into Lafayette’s table. “Oh, Alex I’m sorry,” Lafayette said, readjusting their ponytail. “Lafayette, gosh. Hey, I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to your birthday party last month,” Alex apologized. “It’s okay. Your mom said you had a big date. Think I’d probably miss my own birthday for a date,” Lafayette laughed. “Don’t say that,” Alex told them, putting a hand on their shoulder. “I was looking around the other day and I dug up… these old photographs,” Lafayette said, showing Alex a picture of the two in sixth grade, smiling at the camera. “Oh, they’re great,” laughed Alex. “Come on, Alex,” Angelica insisted, pulling Alex by his sleeve. “I was talking to someone,” Alex said angrily.

 

“Hi, Maria. Love your cardigan,” Angelica said to a girl with dark red lips sitting with her hands folded. “Thanks. I just got it last night at the Limited. Like totally blew my allowance,” Maria said, curving her lips into a smile. “Check this out, you win five million dollars from the Publisher’s Sweepstakes, and the same day that big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on the Earth and say they’re going to blow the world up in two days. What do you do?” Angelica asks. “That’s easy, I’d just slide that wad over to my father ‘cause he’s one of the top brokers in the state.” answers a guy sitting across from Maria with a ridiculous-looking hat. “If I got that money, I’d give it all to the homeless. Every cent,” Maria responded, looking content with herself. “You’re beautiful,” Alex said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and walking away. “If you’re going to openly be a bitch,” Angelica snapped, Alex interrupting her before she could finish her sentence. “It’s just, Angelica, why can’t we talk to different kinds of people?” Alex asked, turning to look at Angelica. “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa? If I did, I probably wouldn’t mind talking to the geek squad,” Angelica said, returning her hand to her hip and motioning to a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. “Does it not bother you that everyone in this school thinks you’re a piranha?” Alex asked, mimicking her and placing his hand at his hip. “Like I give a shit. They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I’m worshipped at Westerburg and I’m only a junior. I can’t believe this. We’re going to a party at Remington University tonight, and we’re brushing up on our conversational skills with the scum of the school.” Angelica said, rolling her eyes exuberantly at Alex, who was once again looking at the boy sitting alone at a table in a corner of the cafeteria. “God, Alex, drool much? His name’s John Laurens. He’s in my American History,” Peggy  said, laughing lightly at Alex.

 

“Hello John Laurens,” said Alex, approaching his table. “Greetings and salutations. Are you a Schuyler?” John replied, smiling up at Alex, which made him feel slightly lightheaded. “No, I’m an Alexander… Hamilton. This may seem like a really stupid question,” Alex said, pulling himself back into reality. “There are no stupid questions,” John replied. “You inherit five million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?” Alex asks him, not breaking eye contact. “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard. Ahh, I don’t know. Probably row out to the middle of a lake somewhere, bring along a bottle of tequila, my sax, and… some ‘bac,” John answers, sitting back. “How very,” replies Alex, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, Alex,” snaps Angelica, dragging him away by his sleeve. “Later,” Alex says to John. “Definitely,” he replies. 

 

“They won’t expel him. They’ll just suspend him for a week or something,” Peggy said absentmindedly, hitting the croquet ball with one swift movement. “He used a real gun. They should throw his ass in jail,” Angelica stated, leaning slightly on her croquet mallet. “No way, he used blanks. All John really did was ruin two pairs of pants. Maybe not even that. Can you bleach out urine stains?” Alex laughed, crossing his arms. “You seem pretty amused. I thought you had given up on high school guys,” Angelica said, raising an eyebrow at Alex. “Never say never,” Alex shrugged in return. “So what’re you going to do, Angelica, take the two shots or send me out?” Eliza asked, putting her book down in exchange for her mallet. “Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? First you ask if you can be red, knowing that I’m always red,” Angelica snapped, hitting her ball and knocking Eliza’s out. “Oh shit,” Eliza murmured, walking to retrieve her croquet ball. “It’s your turn Eliza,” Angelica commanded. “Easy shot Eliza. No way, no day,” said Peggy, crossing her arms. “Give it up, girl,” laughed Alex. Eliza forcefully hit her ball, which ricocheted off a statue and a tree, and straight through the hoop. “Holy shit,” “God, that was incredible,” “Woo!” Alex, Peggy, and Eliza said simultaneously. 

 

“So, tonight’s the night. Are you two excited?” Peggy asked in reference to the Remington University party. “I’m giving Alex his shot, his first Remington party. You blow it tonight boy, and it’s ‘keggers with kids’ all next year,” Angelica warned, setting up her croquet ball, which had Eliza’s ball in it’s destructive path. She hit it smoothly, causing it to attack Eliza’s ball. “Why?” Eliza frowned, looking up from her book. “Why not?” Angelica asked, grinning malvolently. They were disrupted by Alex’s adoptive mother, Martha, coming out with a tray of food. “Girls, your mother is here,” she said, smiling warmly. “Bye,” the Schuylers said in unison. “Hey, take a break Alex. Sit down. So, what was the first week of spring vacation withdrawal like?” asked Alex’s adoptive father, George, from behind his novel. “I don’t know. It was okay I guess,” Alex shrugged, taking a seat. “Hey kid, isn’t the prom coming up?” Martha asked, winking at Alex jokingly. “I guess,” Alex responded airily. “Any contestants worth mentioning?” she asked, placing a hand on George’s shoulder. “Maybe… there’s kind of a dark horse in the running,” responded Alex.  “Goddamn will somebody tell me why I read these spy novels?” George asked exasperatedly. “Because you’re an idiot,” laughed Alex. “Oh yeah, that’s it,” replied George, smiling at Alex and putting the novel down. “You two,” Martha said, hitting George over the head with the novel playfully. “Great pate, but I’ve gotta motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight,” Alex said, standing up and heading indoors.

 

“Corn nuts!” yelled Angelica from the car outside of 7/11. “BQ or plain?” asked Alex in reply. “BQ!” answered Angelica. “Are you gonna pull a super-chug with that?” asked John as Alex grabbed a packet of corn nuts. “No, but if you’re nice, I’ll let you buy me a slushie. I see you know your convenience-speak pretty well,” Alex replied. “Yeah well… I’ve been moved around all my life. Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas… Sherwood, Ohio. There’s always a 7/11. Any town, any time… pop a ham-and-cheese in the microwave and feast on a turbo dog. Keeps me sane.” John said, motioning to his head. “Really? That thing you pulled in the caf was pretty severe,” Alex replied, putting a hand in his hip. “Yeah well, the extreme always seems to make an impression. Did you say a cherry or coke slushie?” asked John, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t… cherry,” Alex laughed. 

 

“Great bike,” Alex said as he took a sip from his straw. “Yeah, just a humble perk from my dad’s construction company. You’ve seen the commercial, right? ‘Bringing every state to a higher state,’” John replied, patting the leather seat of his motorcycle. “Wait a minute. John Laurens. Your pop’s Big Henry Laurens Construction? Must be rough moving from place to place,” Alex said, moving a strand of hair behind his ear. “Well, everyone’s life has got static. Is your life perfect?” John asked. “I’m on my way to a party at Remington University. No, my life’s not perfect. I don’t really like my friends,” Alex told him, turning to eye Angelica, who was honking the car impatiently. “I… I don’t really like your friends either,” John shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Well, it’s just like they’re people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit,” Alex explained. “Maybe it’s time to take a vacation,” suggested John as Alex walked towards the car.

 

“Just throw your coats on the floor. Ah, Alex, this is William,” explained some guy named Samuel as soon as Alex and Angelica arrived. “Excellent!” said William, rubbing his hands together. “Did you two bring your partying slippers?” asked Samuel. “Let’s party,” replied Angelica, smiling. “She loves to party,” Samuel told William.

 

“How’s my little cheerleader, huh? Oh, I know everyone at your high school isn’t so uptight. Come on,” William pleaded. “Come on, now look, I don’t feel so good, okay?” replied Alex, crossing his arms. “Hey, let’s do it on the coats, it’ll be excellent, huh?” suggested William. “You know, I have a little prepared speech for my suitor when he wants more than I’m prepared to give him,” Alex said, standing up. “Save the speeches for Malcolm X, I just wanna get laid,” William shrugged. “You don’t deserve my fucking speech,” Alex said harshly before stomping out. “

 

“What’s your damage? William says you’re being a real kuse,” Angelica snapped, placing her hands on her hips. “Angelica, I feel really sick, like I’m going to throw up, so can we jam now?” Alex begged. “No! Hell no!” yelled Angelica angrily, only to have Alex throw up on her shoes seconds later. “You stupid fuck!” Angelica screamed as they walked outside. “You goddamn bitch!” Alex yelled in return. “You were nothing before you met me. You were playing Barbies with Lafayette. You were a bluebird. You were a brownie. You were a Girl Scout cookie. I got you into a Remington party. What’s my thanks? It’s on the hallway. I got paid in puke,” Angelica retorted viciously. “Lick it up, baby. Lick… it… up!” shouted Alex. “Monday morning, you're history. I'll tell everyone about tonight. Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No one at Westerburg's gonna let you play their reindeer games,” Angelica whispered harshly.

 

_ Dear Diary,  _ Alex wrote,  _ I want to kill, and you have to believe it's for more than just selfish reasons. You have to believe me. Oh Christ, I can't explain it, but I'm allowed an understanding that my parents and these Remington University assholes have chosen to ignore.  I understand that I must stop Angelica,  _ he wrote quickly across the pages.  _ Lafayette was a true friend, and I sold them out for a bunch of Swatch-dogs and Diet Coke-heads. Killing Angelica would be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West.. wait.. East.. West.. God, I sound like a fucking psycho! Tomorrow, I'll be kissing her aerobicised ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Angelica, a world where I am free,  _ Alex finished, throwing his diary across the room as John climbed up to his window. “Dreadful etiquette, I apologize,” John said, leaning on Alex’s windowsill. “It’s okay,” Alex shrugged, removing his glasses. “I saw the croquet set up in the back. You up for a match?” asked John.

 

“Thank you. That was my first game of strip croquet,” John said, kissing Alex in between sentences. “Well, you’re welcome. It’s a lot more interesting than just flinging off your clothes and boning away on a neighbor’s swing set,” Alex laughed. “There’s a lot more to be said for throwing your clothes off,” John said, smiling as he kissed Alex again. “What a night. What a life. They wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade because I was supposed to be this big genius,” Alex explained, pausing only when John kissed him. “Then we decided to chuck the idea because I’d have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah blah blah is all I do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color gloss to wear, and how to hit three keggers before curfew,” Alex continued. “Angelica Schuyler is one bitch that deserves to die,” John said, putting an arm around Alex’s shoulder. “Killing her won’t solve anything. I say we just grow up, be adults and die. But before that, I’d like to see Angelica Schuyler puke her guts out,” Alex said determinedly.

 

“Trust me, she skips the Saturday morning trip to Grandma’s even when she’s not hungover,” Alex explained as he and John sneaked into Angelica’s kitchen. “We’ll just concoct ourselves a little hangover cure that’ll induce her to spew red, white and blue, then,” John replied. “What about like milk and orange juice. What’s the upchuck factor on that?” Alex asked, looking through Angelica’s fridge. “I’m a no-rust-build-up man myself,” John said as he grabbed a bottle of blue sink cleaner. “Don’t be a dick. That stuff’ll kill her,” Alex responded, rolling his eyes. “Yeah,” John said, trailing off and placing the bottle on the kitchen counter. “I know, we can cook up some soup, and put it in a coke. It's... it's pretty sick, eh? Now should it be chicken noodle or bean with bacon?” Alex suggested, opening a cabinet. “Put a lid on that stuff. I say we go with big blue here,” John urged, pouring the liquid cleaner into a glass cup. “What are you talking about? She would never drink anything that looked like that, anyway,” Alex replied, motioning towards the glass. “So we'll put it in this. She won't be able to see what she's drinking,” John said, grabbing a mug with a lid on it and pouring the cleaner into it. “It's only in a cup, jerk. Okay, milk and orange juice. Well, maybe we could cough up a phlegm globber or something,” Alex said, retrieving an identical mug. He and John then started coughing madly before giving up. “Oh well, milk and orange juice will do it quite nicely,” Alex predicted, filling the empty mug. “You chicken?” asked John. “You’re not funny,” replied Alex, rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry. Ahh, Alex?” John said, kissing him, which resulted in Alex picking up the mug of liquid cleaner by accident. “What?” Alex asked, placing his free hand on his hip. “Nevermind. I’ll… I’ll carry the cup,” John responded, grabbing the mug. 

  
“Morning, Angelica,” Alex said as he and John walked into her bedroom. “Alex,” Angelica replied as she noticed John. “Jesse James. Quelle surprise. Hear about Alex’s affection for regurgitation?” Angelica asked sourly. “I think last night we both said a lot of stuff we didn’t mean,” Alex answered, removing his hand from his hip and instead crossing his arms. “Did we? How the hell did you get in here?” Angelica asked, sitting up in her bed. “Alex knew you'd have a hangover, so I whipped this up for you. It's a family recipe,” John replied. “What did you do, put a phlegm globber in it or something? I'm not gonna drink that piss,” Angelica snapped. “I knew this stuff'd be too intense for her,” John shrugged. “Intense. Grow up! You think I'll drink it just because you call me chicken?” Angelica asked, rolling her eyes at John, who smiled wryly and nodded. “Just give me the cup, jerk,” she said, grabbing the cup and taking a sip. “Corn nuts!” Angelica choked as she stopped breathing and fell head first onto her glass table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I KNOW THIS IS BAD SORRY ALSO KING GEORGE IS WILLIAM I JUST USED HIS LAST NAME


	2. what's your damage?

“Oh my god. I can’t believe it. I just killed my best friend,” Alex whispered, covering his mouth with his hands. “And your worst enemy,” John said, peering over Angelica’s motionless body. “Same difference. Ohh,” Alex replied, waving his hand without removing his eyes from Angelica, as if he expected her to come back to life. “What’re we gonna tell the cops? Fuck it if she can’t take a joke, Searge?” John asked. “Oh the cops. I can't believe this is my life. Oh my God. I'm gonna have to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford,” Alex said, sitting at Angelica’s vanity and rubbing his temple. “Alright, I'm just a little freaked, here. At least you got what you wanted, y'know?” John shrugged, walking over to Alex. “Got what I wanted? It is one thing to want somebody out of your life, it is another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer,” Alex said, looking up at John, who was looking around the room. “Yeah. All right, we did a murder and that's a crime, but this were like a suicide thing, y'know?” John suggested as his eyes fell on a magazine cover reporting a suicide. “Like a suicide thing?” Alex asked. “Yeah. I mean, you can do Angelica’s handwriting as well as your own, right? Right?” John replied. “You might think what I've done is shocking,” Alex said as he opened a drawer, grabbed a piece of paper and began composing a suicide note. “Umm… to me, though, suicide is the logical answer to the myriad of problems life has given me,” John recommended. “That’s good, but Angelica would never use the word ‘myriad’,” Alex told him as he stopped writing and looked at John, who was peering over Alex’s shoulder. “This is the last thing she'll ever write, she'll want to cash in on as many fifty cent words as possible,” John said, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, but she missed "myriad" on the vocab test two weeks ago,” Alex explained. “It proves my point more. The word is a badge for her failures at school,” John clarified. “Oh. Okay, you're probably right,” Alex said, turning back to the paper and continuing to write. “People think that just because you're beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun. No one understood, I had feelings too,” he wrote, quickly and smoothly. “I die knowing no one knew the real me,” John finished. “That’s good. Have you done this before?” Alex asked jokingly, but instead of hearing John laugh in return, he looked up to see that John had a grim look on his face.

 

“God, it's unfair. It's just so unfair. We should get off a whole week, not just an hour,” Peggy complained, leaning her head against the wall in the girls’ locker room, which Alex had been permitted to use. “Write the school board,” Eliza replied, mouth full with chicken as she nearly inhaled another wing. “Watch it Eliza, you might be digesting food there,” Alex said, watching as she grabbed yet another piece of chicken. “Yeah, where’s your urge to purge?” asked Peggy, knowing that Eliza suffered from bulimia. “Fuck it,” she replied, throwing the bare bone in the air behind her. Look, Angelica left behind one of her Swatches. She'd want you to have it, Alex. She always said you couldn't accessorize for shit,” Peggy said, grabbing Angelica’s watch from the locker and handing it to Alex. “What a waste,” Peggy frowned, dropping her head and shaking it gloomily. “Oh, the humanity,” replied Eliza, mimicking her. Alex walked underneath one of the showers and turned it on, fully clothed. “Alex… Alex, what’re you doing?” Peggy asked as Alex ran his hands through his hair. 

 

“You know, we were the same size, so sometimes we could borrow each other's clothes, and mix it up. It was fun,” said Eliza’s monotone voice from the TV screen as John and Alex sat on John’s couch, channel surfing. “I remember I won her a rhino at the 4H Club, for,” was all John Barker was able to say before Alex muted him for being an asshole. “You know, we liked the same kind of clothes. We liked a lot of the same things,” Eliza said, once again showing up on the screen, this time on a different channel. “Heather, how many networks did you run to?” Alex laughed, throwing a piece of popcorn at the TV. “It's not going to be the same here without her. Every English class, I looked forward to seeing her,” Maria lied, smiling from the screen. “What’re you talking about? You hated her, she hated you!” yelled Alex, laughing until John shut the TV off. “Angelica Schuyler’s more popular than ever now,” John sighed, sitting back down. “Scary stuff,” replied Alex.

“Hey, take a break Alex. Sit down. So, what was the first day after Angelica's suicide like?” Martha asked, pulling a chair out for Alex, which he sat in. “I don’t 'know. It was okay, I guess,” Alex shrugged. “Terrible thing. So, we get to meet this dark horse prom contender?” smiled Martha. “Maybe,” replied Alex. “Goddamn will somebody tell me why I smoke these damn things?” George asked, removing a cigar from his mouth. “‘Cause you’re an idiot,” responded Alex. “You two,” Martha laughed. “Great pate but I’ve gotta motor if I’m going to be ready for the funeral tonight,” Alex said, standing up and heading inside.

 

“I blame not Angelica, but rather a society that tells its youth that the answers can be found in the MTV video games. We must pray that the other teenagers of Sherwood, Ohio know the name of that righteous dude who can solve their problems. It's Jesus Christ, and he's in the book,” finished the priest. “Amen,” said the church in unison.  _ Oh God, this is a tragic thing, and sometimes I have a hard time dealing with it and stuff. Please send Angelica to heaven and all that,  _ Peggy prayed as each of Angelica’s friends were allowed to pray silently by her open casket.  _ Dear God, please make sure this never happens to me, ‘cause I don't think I can handle suicide. Plus, early acceptance into an Ivy League school and please let it be Harvard. Amen,  _ finished John Barker.  _ Jesus, God in Heaven, why did you kill such hot snatch? Hey, it's a joke, man. Jeez, people are so serious. Hail Mary who aren't in Heaven, bless sinners, so we don't get caught. Another joke man,  _ prayed Thomas Jefferson.  _ I prayed for the death of Angelica Schuyler many times, and I felt bad every time I did it, but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything. Praise Jesus, Hallelujah,  _ Eliza finished as she smiled silently.  _ Hi, I'm sorry. Technically I did not kill Angelica Schuyler, but hey, who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nice place. Amen. Did that sound bitchy?  _ Alex wondered as he finished.

 

“Alex, what're you doing tonight?” Peggy asked him as they walked out of the church. “I don’t know, mourning, maybe watch some TV. Why?” Alex replied. “Well, Thomas Jefferson asked me out tonight, but he wants to double with James Madison, and I’m afraid they’ll try something. Can you come with me?” Peggy explained. “Peggy,” Alex began, placing a hand on his hip. “Please? I’m your best friend,” she pleaded, folding her hands. “Fine,” sighed Alex, rolling his eyes. “Don't worry, Thomas' been so sweet lately, consoling me and stuff. It'll be really very. Promise,” Peggy said, offering her pinky finger to Alex. “Okay, just as long as it's not one of those nights when they get shit faced and take us to a pasture to tip cows,” Alex responded, connecting his pinky with Peggy’s. 

 

“Is he sleeping, dude?” asked James, as he and Thomas snuck up on a cow in the middle of a pasture. “I think so, man. Come here,” replied Thomas, while Alex shot Peggy a dirty look. “Shit,” James giggled drunkenly. “Cow-tipping's the fuckin' greatest. Punch it in!” laughed Thomas, holding a fist out for James, which he hit. “Oww. Okay on the count of three,” James replied. “One, two, three,” they said in unison, tipping the cow over, causing it to land in a pile of mud, which splashed onto Peggy and Alex. “What is this shit?” John asked as he came down the hill. “Doing a favor for Peggy. Tried to tell you at the funeral but you rode off,” Alex explained, walking up to John. “Another fucking Schuyler. Sorry, I'm feeling a little superior tonight. Seven schools in seven states, and the only thing different is my locker combination. Our love is God. Let's go get a slushie,” John said, offering his hand to Alex, who took it gladly.

“I'm not belittling the foodless fund, John, it's just that we're talking teenage suicide here. Ask Dolley, the number one song on America today is "Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It" by Big Fun. Jesus man, Westerburg finally got one of these things, and I'm not gonna blow it!” exclaimed Jacques Prevost to John Barker. “Great. So Angelica gets the front page, and I get crammed in by the Taco Bell coupons,” John sighed. “Hi guys. Came to check up on this week’s lunch time poll topic,” Alex said, entering the school paper editing room. “Don't worry about it, Alex. Sit down. The funeral yesterday must really have been rough, huh?” asked Jacques. “Oh, yeah,” Alex replied, trailing off. “We were wondering if you had any poems or artwork that Angelica did that we can put in the Angelica Schuyler Yearbook Spring,” Jacques asked. “The what?” Alex responded. “Come here, take a look. A two page layout, with her suicide note right up here in the corner. It's more tasteful than it sounds,” explained Jacques, leading Alex to a table in the center of the editing room. “I don't know Jacques, this stuff gives me a bad feeling,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Like last night Alex?” Maria asked as her friend giggled. “Excuse me? I don't get it,” Alex asked, turning around and placing a hand on his hip. “What Peggy did last night. Kurt told us about her little date,” Maria laughed. “Yeah, and? She left him drunk and flailing in cow shit,” Alex responded. “Well, I don’t know, he was really detailed,” Maria smiled, looking around the room. “Shut up, Maria,” John told her as she rolled her eyes. “No, don’t shut up. I’d like to know exactly what Peggy did,” Alex replied aggressively. “Come on, Alex. I'll show you the lunch time poll topic,” John said as he led her out of the room. “What the fuck?” Alex asked once they were outside. “Okay, I rarely listen to neanderthals like James Madison, but he said that he and Thomas Jefferson had a nice little sword fight in Peggy’s mouth last night. You know what I mean?” John explained. “No! That son of a bitch!” yelled Alex, storming off angrily.

 

“Hi James. Hi, this is Alex Hamilton. Yeah, I didn't expect to be calling either, but Peggy practically begged me to. She was wondering if you wanted all those things you've been saying to really happen? It's always been a fantasy of hers to have two guys at once,” lied Alex as he and John sat on Alex’s bed. “Sure, you can write to Penthouse Forum,” Alex replied, while John burst out laughing, causing Alex to throw a pillow at him. “Yes, in the woods behind school. At dawn. Don’t forget Thomas!” Alex finished, hanging up. “I don't get the point of me writing a suicide note when we'll just going to be shooting them with blanks,” Alex said, writing with a puzzled look on his face. “We're not going to be using blanks, this time,” John replied, sitting on the foot of the bed. “You can’t be serious,” Alex said, looking up from the rim of his glasses. “I am,” John smiled. “Listen, my Bonnie and Clyde days are over,” Alex explained, this time sitting up. “Wait a second, wait a second. Do you take German?” John asked. “French,” Alex replied. “Alright, these are Ich Luge bullets. My grandfather snared a shitload of them back in WWII. They're like tranquilizers, only they break the surface of the skin, enough to cause a little blood, but no real damage,” John clarified. “So it looks like the person has been shot and killed, and really they're just laying there unconscious and bleeding?” Alex asked. “Right. We shoot Thomas and James, make it look like they shot each other. By the time they regain consciousness they will be the laughing stock of the whole school.  The note's the punchline, how did that turn out?” John explained. “First, tell me the similarity is not incredible,” Alex said, showing John the note. “Incredible similarity,” John replied, causing Alex to break into a grin. “Okay. Thomas and I died the day we realised we could never reveal our forbidden love to an uncaring and ununderstanding world. The joy we shared in each other’s arms was greater than any touch down, yet we were forced to live the lives of sexist, beer guzzling jock assholes,” Alex finished, looking up to John for a response. “It's perfect,” John replied. “Oh, you’re so smart,” Alex said, standing up and kissing John.

  
“Hi, Alex?” Thomas said, obviously confused as he and James arrived. “Hi guys! I know you were expecting Peggy and she’ll be here, don’t worry, but she asked me to take care of a few things before showing herself,” Alex lied, smiling at the two jocks. “So, what do we do now?” James asked. “Well, I made a circle on each side of the clearing. James, you come over here. When you get to the circle, strip!” Alex explained. “What about Peggy?” James asked. “Well, she was kind of hoping you could rip her clothes off her,” Alex lied, smiling. “Good idea,” James replied as he and Thomas stripped down to their underwear. “Okay, Peggy will show herself on the count of three. One, two,” Alex said, counting slowly. “Three,” John said as he showed himself from behind a tree and shot James in the throat. “Wow!” Thomas screamed as Alex shot at him but missed. “Did you miss him completely?” John asked. “Yes, but don't worry. It was worth it, just to see the look on him!” Alex laughed, leaning on a tree for support. “Don't move, I'll get him back,” John said, running after Thomas. “James? James, you okay?” Alex asked, rolling him over only to figure out he wasn’t breathing. “Now!” John yelled as Thomas came running back to the clearing and Alex shot him. “Thomas doesn’t look too good,” Alex said worriedly. “Just remember he’s left handed,” John said as Alex planted the suicide note. “Let’s go!” John whispered, grabbing Alex’s hand and taking off running after hearing footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO THANKS FOR READING I'M TRYING MY BEST

**Author's Note:**

> heLLO I KNOW THIS IS BAD ALSO WILLIAM IS KING GEORGE I JUST USED HIS MIDDLE NAME I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AU


End file.
